A Timely Mistake
by Orrick
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are transported back in time to the Marauders era. How does Harry cope with meeting his father? How do they get back? How do they live with the knowledge of the future while being in the past?
1. Chapter 1

**There has always been fanfics where Hermione gets transported back in time to the Marauders era, or Harry does, or whatever. I thought it would be a good idea for the entire Golden Trio to go back in time, and seeing that little to no fanfics had been written around this idea, I decided to write one myself. Unfortunately I am unable to write seriously. Deal with it.**

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><p>"Umbridge is coming." Hissed Ron as he shoved Harry back against the wall. The woman in question prowled around the corner, glancing suspiciously at the trio before turning on her heel to yell at a young couple snogging on a nearby bench.<p>

Hermione let out a deep breath and Ron turned towards Harry, eyes aflame. "Bloody hell, Harry! She could have heard you, and then where would the D.A. be? WHERE THE BLOODY HELL WOULD IT BE?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably, glancing at Hermione for support. "Ron, don't be too harsh," Hermione begged, catching Harry's unspoken plea of help. "He didn't mean to. And he'll be more careful next time, won't you, Harry?"

"Of course, 'Mione," Chipped in Harry immediately, raising his arm in a sort of mocking sort of way. Ron looked unconvinced. "Look guys, forget about the Toad and let's get to Potions. Supposedly a Hufflepuff first year was stupid enough to ask about his greasy hair, so he'll be in an extra bad mood and keen to take away our precious red and gold points."

"Fine." Ron took the first step towards the dungeons, and they walked swiftly, their hope of not being late disappearing with every corridor they walked in that didn't have their classmates walking in either.

"Oh god, we're late. We're late!" Hermione started to hyperventilate, and Ron reached out to sort of awkwardly hold her hand. They continued like that all the way up to the entrance to Snape's office, where Hermione dropped her books and something shiny fell out of her pocket.

Ron bent down, breaking their hand clasp, to examine what had fallen. "Are you still taking extra courses?" He asked curiously as he gazed at the time turner. Hermione, like Harry minutes before, squirmed uncomfortably and Ron answered his own question. "No, that couldn't be right, you would have told us!" He looked up at her, hurt in his eyes. "Wouldn't you?"

"It's not for extra classes," answered Hermione quickly. "I-I…" She seemed ashamed of what she was about to say, and not looking at either of them, she continued. "Professor McGonagall told me few days ago that the Ministry demanded the time turner back because of their budget cuts, and when she asked for it, I said…I said…"

"Said what?"

Tears were falling down Hermione's cheeks. "I SAID THAT I HAD LOST IT!"

Ron and Harry looked at her for a few seconds, hoping Snape hadn't heard her outburst. "So?" They said in unison.

"So?" Hermione repeated, wiping her eyes. "So I lied! I've all but stolen it! Why? BECAUSE I LIKE HAVING THINGS THAT OTHERS DON'T HAVE!"

Harry tapped his chin, thinking of his invisibility cloak. "I can understand that." He nodded, agreeing with himself. Ron, being poor, could only gaze at the time turner in his hand and feel bad about having no money. "Anyway…" Harry broke the silence, nudging Hermione gently on the shoulder. The action earned a small smile. "It's no big deal, 'Mione. We all have our kleptomaniac ways. Just make sure you always have it on you so the Ministry doesn't come in and snoop through your things."

"That's what I've been doing-"

Her sentence was cut short by the bang of the door being opened harshly. Ron shoved the time turner behind his back, whipping his head around. There, in the door frame, stood Snape, a scowl forever curved into his pale face. "What do we have here?"

"Three students, sir."

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your smart mouth, Potter. Stacked on the ten taken off of each of you for being late, that makes a heart sixty, does it not?"

"Wow, sir, you can do math."

Snape paled even more at the blatant disrespect, and his black eyes darkened, a look of rage and fury etched into his features. "Another fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and a detention with me Friday, at seven o'clock."

"But sir," Harry looked bewildered, turning to look at Ron and Hermione, the latter of which mouthing "don't." Harry ignored her. "I believe that's the time I put down to snog your mother."

Something inside of Snape broke at the childish insult, and he started to scream at the three of them, much to the delight and interest of the Slytherins in the classroom.

"YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE JUST EARNED A FIVE HUNDRED POINT LOSS TO GRYFFINDOR AND A DETENTION EVERY WEEK FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR FOR YOUR BLATANT DISRESPECT. DUMBLEDORE WILL BE INFORMED OF YOUR TOM FOOLERY AND LACK OF RESPECT IMMEDIATELY, AND NO DOUBT YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM YOUR GUARDIANS YOU TRIO OF UNEDUCATED, UNIMPORTANT MISCREANTS…"

"Oh god," Hermione whispered over the yelling. "You broke Snape."

Ron, however, backed into the corner and was fiddling with something urgently in his hands. "Ronald! What are you doing?" As Snape continued to yell, Hermione approached Ron and gasped in horror, slapping the time turner out of his hands. He caught it in mid-air and continued his frantic movements. "Stop it! You're going to send yourself back in time! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING?"

Snape continued to drone on, and Ron looked at him swiftly before talking to Hermione. "Can't take it, he's going to kill us, have to get out of here…"

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "Look what you've caused! Make him stop!"

Harry walked up to his best friend, Snape still yelling, and tugged at Ron's sleeve. "Ron, Hermione can't transfigure it or make it disappear or anything unless you _let go._" Ron kept turning, and Harry looked over at Hermione. "It's not going to work, persuading him!"

Hermione and Harry, having nothing else to do, both grabbed at the time turner at the same time, and as the last turn clicked in to place, the world seemed to stop, and everything started to move in reverse.


	2. Chapter 2

They stopped with a soft _pop_ some time later right where they were standing when they started, except there was no yelling Snape here. There was no one there at all, and the dungeon corridor looked exactly the same, missing only the small dent in Snape's door that came from Neville trying a little too hard not to be late and walking too swiftly.

Halfway through the transformation Ron had begun crying and shut his eyes. Harry and Hermione quickly followed, cuddling each other around the time turner and sobbing quietly. The scenes continued to flash by, getting faster each moment, a soft buzzing becoming steadily louder.

And then it just stopped.

It took them a few seconds to recover, and Harry broke himself away from the other two, gazing around. Ron held Hermione's hand again, but neither of them moved except to look up. After moments of intense silence, Ron broke it with extreme tact.

"Where the bloody hell are we?"

Harry ran his fingers down the wall, sniffing them before running his knuckle down Snape's wooden door. "The question is," He murmured, hoping to sound wise. He turned to gaze at them, cocking an eyebrow. "_When_ are we?"

"Oh Harry," Hermione spoke for the first time, rolling her eyes. "We all know that; it was just a poor choice of words. Either way, the question has yet to be answered, and it won't be, if we continue to stand here."

Harry frowned, knowing Hermione's miniature speech sounded cooler than his question. Ron spoke hesitantly. "Should we go to Dumbledore's office?"

Harry felt an intense flame of anger, and he channeled it towards Ron, who seemed innocent and unsuspecting. "I don't know, _Ron_," He sneered, glaring at the slightly taller boy. "Perhaps you could transport us into _another_ time? Maybe we can go say hi to Tom fucking Riddle and help him hex his diary!"

Hermione seemed to be thinking, and as Ron tried to yell an angry retort, she interrupted him. "That's it, Harry! We can just use the time turner to transport us back into our time! Of course, we'd have to find out what time we're in right now, but that shouldn't be hard. All we'd need to do is ask someone or find a newspaper. This is an easy fix!"

As she spoke, Ron, angry with the interruption, waved his hands in the air furiously at Harry. The time turner was in Hermione's palm, and Ron's elbow hit her hand and it was knocked to the ground.

It was like the sound of all hope being lost, the sound of the time turner shattering into pieces.

Harry walked up and punched Ron squarely in the face. Ron hit back with equal force and a full out fist fight broke out, but none of them did any actual damage, considering that they were both lanky adolescents with no skill whatsoever. "Stop it!" Screeched Hermione, but they continued, the fight reaching its ugly head when Ron accidentally stepped on Harry's foot.

"Ow!" Harry limped away, shooting Ron evil glances. "Too far, jackass." He nursed his foot by taking his shoe off and massaging it gently. Ron looked guilty.

All three of them stood there, Hermione trying without success to repair the broken time turner. Without any progress, she sighed and enchanted the pieces to fly into the pocket on the inside of her robes. "What are we going to do?"

Harry looked cross. "I suppose…I suppose we could do what Ron said and go visit Dumbledore's office, if it even is Dumbledore's office." He shot another glare in Ron's direction.

Ron just shrugged. "I'm sure it will be Dumbledore's. It ought to be, the man is ancient."

Harry, finding the perfect excuse to verbally harass Ron, stood up. "Don't speak about him that way!" He said furiously, foot cured.

Before Ron could reply the bell, louder and clearer than it was in their time, rang and the door was swung violently open. They were pushed into the corner of the hallway by a stampede of students. Potion fumes were floating out, and Ron coughed loudly. No one noticed.

"How should the poem go? Lily, oh Lily, how you are so silly! I'd love to laugh with you, not at you, and if you shake off Snape, we could date…"

The roar of laughter drowned out everyone else at these words, and Harry saw, with complete shock, his father walk out with three other people, all of which he recognized. Sirius was laughing the hardest, his head thrown back in a legit howl. Lupin was just smiling slightly, eyes tired, and Peter was chortling with a laugh he thought would impress James and Sirius.

Instinctively Harry pressed himself harder into the corner, for some reason not wanting them to see him. Ron whispered. "Blimey, we're in the time your parents went to school, Harry!" As if it wasn't obvious. They all looked to be around his age, and with total horror he watched the person they had attempted to escape earlier push his way through the crowd. He was younger, but his hair was as greasy as ever.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" The nasally voice rang throughout the hall, and James and his friends stopped to watch. "If you don't fucking move I'll be late for bloody Herbology, as if I don't have better things to do…"

"SNIVELLUS!" James called out in a feeble attempt to bully, but Snape merely ignored him. "Ah well," the bespectacled boy said to his friends, and they continued to walk with the crowd. With a sinking feeling Harry felt his father's eyes fall on him. He poked Sirius and pointed at them. Sirius followed his gaze and broke out in a grin.

"He looks a tad bit like you, Prongs."

With those words Lupin and Pettigrew turned to look. "A tad?" Remus scrunched his eyebrows. "They could be twins."

"Fellow Gryffindors," James spoke to them as if he hadn't been speaking about them earlier. "My twin, the ginger, and the One-Of-Bush-Origin, I ask what year you are in."

Hermione frowned at his description. Harry didn't know what to say, so he ignored his father, instead pushing Hermione and Ron in front of him and down the hallway. At the shove they all broke into a sprint, running blindly down the halls in a vague sense of direction towards Dumbledore's office. They turned and ran down the main corridors, pushing other students out of the way. Harry had no time to take in his surroundings, nor any time to stop and gaze at what he new to be his mother chatting animatedly with a Ravenclaw girl in the same year.

"Harry!" Ron panted, stopping in front of the stone gargoyle with enough force to knock Harry down. "Slow down! We don't even know the bloody password!"

Hermione was studying the gargoyle. "Lemon drop? Fizzing Whizbees?" The gargoyle shook its head. "Hmm…I don't suppose it's butterbeer? It's not a candy, but the headmaster seems fond of it…"

The gargoyle nodded furiously and moved aside so they could climb up to Dumbledore's office. "You go first, Harry." Both Ron and Hermione pushed him in front, and Harry scowled, adjusting his glasses.

As they ascended up the stairwell, Harry felt a stone in the pit of his stomach. _What will he say? Will I have to explain my entire life story to him? As much as I like talking about myself, the tale is rather long, and…ya know how it is…_

They stopped in front of his door and Harry hesitantly knocked, a part of him hoping the headmaster wasn't there.

"Enter."

Harry swallowed and pushed the door open, not knowing what to expect.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, auburn streaked in his graying beard. Other than the slight hair difference, he looked essentially the same, maybe a bit less wrinkled on the edges. The office wasn't any different; the bowl of lemon drops sat in the exact same spot they did in Harry's time. For an absurd moment Harry wondered if it was glued to the desk.

"Ah, James!" Dumbledore glanced up only momentarily before looking back down at his paperwork. "What do you need? Are you in trouble?" Receiving no answer he glanced up again, eyebrows scrunching. He didn't look back down this time. "Who are your friends?"

Harry took as step forward, gulping. Ron and Hermione did the same. With a cough Harry spoke as calmly and clearly as he could. It took a lot to stop his voice from shaking.

"I'm uh…I'm not James."


	3. Chapter 3

Dumbledore sat his pen down, gazing at Harry. "That's ridiculous. Who else would you be?" When Harry didn't respond, Dumbledore stood up and walked closer to the boy, taking in his appearance. His eyes were green and his clothes were wrinkled, dirt smeared across the knees of his slacks. Most noticeable though was the scar on his forehead shaped like a lightening bolt. Dumbledore's right hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but he pulled it back before Harry could notice. "If not James, who are you?"

Harry didn't know what to say. _What do I say? What do I bloody say? Oh, I'm from the future, headmaster, and I don't know how to fucking get back! Oh yeah, JAMES AND LILY DIE! Oh god, oh god. Think brain, think…_

Harry wordlessly walked over to where Hermione was standing and pulled out the shattered remains of the time turner, placing the pieces on Dumbledore's desk and looking at the old man. _Words were never needed, words are what I cheated…_ Harry made up a poem happily inside his head, gleeful at his cleverness.

Dumbledore picked up the biggest piece of the time turner, gazing at it with interest. "A future James with green eyes?" He guessed experimentally, setting the piece back on the desk and turning to look at Harry. "A future James with new friends?"

"No." Harry replied, watching the headmaster's every movement. "A little further in time than that."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "James…green eyes…" His eyes began to sparkle and he smiled. "You are James' son, Lily's son. And these," He gestured at Ron and Hermione. "These must be your friends."

Harry nodded, deciding it would be best to start talking more at this point. "We…we got transported back in time. By accident." He shot another glare at Ron. "And then the time turner _accidentally _fell and now we're stuck."

Dumbledore stood there for a moment, his midnight blue robes billowing slightly. "It wouldn't have worked anyway. Time turners have only one purpose: going _back_ in time. To expect any more of it is as pointless as it is ridiculous."

"I knew that," Hermione added as Dumbledore finished speaking. "I must have forgotten in the commotion. How silly of me…"

"Whatever," Ron interrupted, walking up to stand beside Harry. "Point is we're bloody stuck in this damn time. You're a genius, Dumbles, what do you propose?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I presume I'm still headmaster when you three attended Hogwarts?" They all nodded, and Dumbledore sighed. "Such a life consuming job. A lovely one, though, and I do it well. Now," He continued, walking over to the kettle and pouring them each a cup of tea, dropping a lemon drop in each tea cup. "Before we get started on the entire story of your predicament, I'd like a few others to be present."

They watched as Dumbledore summoned a house elf, asking it very politely to tell Professors McGonagall and Slughorn to come to his office immediately. It obliged, and a few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

"It better be bloody important Albus! Tartan doesn't buy itself!"

McGonagall walked in with Slughorn close behind, both of them looking ruffled and slightly anxious, McGonagall more so. "Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore greeted her with the warmth that came from years of friendship. "We have some guests."

McGonagall glanced in Harry's direction. "James Potter, for the last time, you look homeless with that haircut. Use the hairbrush Mr. Lupin bought you for Christmas. And tuck your shirt in!"

Harry's eyes narrowed for a moment. He rubbed his face, looking at Dumbledore. "I'm not my bloody father, okay?" He pointed to his chest, turning to McGonagall and Slughorn. "LOOK AT ME! GREEN EYES! LIGHTENING FUCKING BOLT ON MY FOREHEAD!" He raised his hair up frantically to expose more of his forehead to them. McGonagall just looked at him under half closed eyes. She turned to Dumbledore.

"We're not doing LARP again this year, are we? What is he supposed to be?"

"GAH!" Harry screeched, pulling his hair. Ron punched him in the arm and he stopped, rubbing his bicep with more resentment towards Ron.

Slughorn finally spoke. "Listen, Albus. I'd love to sit and talk, but Mr. Errit of Hufflepuff was just telling me about his father, who by the way wrote _101 Ways to Drink a Butterbeer_. I really think-"

Dumbledore interrupted him with no hesitation. "These three people," he waved his hand in the vague direction of the Trio. "Are from the future. They used a now broken time turner to get here and need a way to get back. And yes, before you ask, the one in the middle is James' and Lily's son. The redhead appears to be a Weasley and the girl is Muggle-born."

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide. "H-how did you know?"

"What, besides your obvious air of unfamiliarity and the Shakespeare book hanging out of your pocket?"

"Yes, besides that."

"Nothing. I guessed and I was right. My guesses usually are." Dumbledore smiled again, taking in McGonagall's and Slughorn's reactions with a quiet interest.

"James's and Lily's son." McGonagall repeated, talking to herself. She looked up. "I always thought they'd end up together, but she really does seem to hate him."

Slughorn squeaked, a sound Harry was used to Flitwick doing. "I know! Hey, kid," He turned to Harry. "Are they in love? Do they fight a lot?"

This was the awkward part. "I uh, um…"

Ron was munching on some stale crackers he found in a desk drawer. "They died." Some crumbs fell out of his mouth. The three professors in the room took a step back, shocked. Ron greedily took in their reactions, glad to be the center of attention. "Yep. Totally baked. The Lily chick threw herself in front of Harry, he was just one at that point, and Vol-de-mort offed her. 'Course James died first. I heard his body just lay limply in the hallway until the Ministry cleaned it up."

"V-Voldemort?" Slughorn asked hesitantly.

"Yep. That's what I said, wassinit? Apparently when Lily died for Harry's life the love was just too much and You-Know-Who's body just like…blew apart. It blew out half their house, too!" Ron made a big circle with his arms, dropping some of his crackers. "That big! Anyway, Harry survived the killing curse, so people call him The-Boy-Who-Lived. I'm just Ron, The-Poor-Boy-Forced-To-Eat-Stale-Sandwiches-On-The-Hogwarts-Express. It was so cool, because last year Voldemort made a new body and is now stronger than ever! Harry dueled him! I bet it was totally awesome!"

Nobody said anything for a while, except for Hermione whispering "Ron, stop."

"Why," Dumbledore sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Why don't we start at the beginning? The very beginning."

And so they did. Harry told them about living with the Dursley's for eleven years, about being rescued by Hagrid and receiving his Hogwarts letter, about the Sorcerer's Stone. Nobody spoke as he told them his story. The Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, Voldemort rising to power, it all soon blurred and he was finally at the story of their accidental trip back in time.

"We were standing outside of Potions class, worried that we'd be late, and Hermione had her time turner. She uses it so she can have a lot of classes or something. Anyway, _Snape_ opened the door and _Ron_ freaked out and turned us back in time. That's about it." Harry leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.

Dumbledore did not speak for a long time. Instead he chose to examine the floor, thinking hard. "I do not think," he spoke so softly they would not hear him if any of his trinkets were on. "I do not think it is a good idea for us to know all of this in advance. But the deed is done, and we do. There is nothing that can be done about that.

"For the current situation, however, we could do one of two things. We could put you three into hiding until we find a suitable way to transport you back to your time. This would be the best option logically. The second option is to allow you to attend classes with your peers until we can find a solution. If we choose this route we must tell all parties involved who you are, which mean your father and mother would be informed of your identity, as well as Messrs Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Snape. You cannot, and will not, if we take this route, tell them of their future, excluding your birth."

"I think the second option is the best for everyone involved." Harry said, excited. _I get to talk to my folks. I get to hug them and say hi and do normal things instead of crying over their pictures. Yay!_

"I still can't get over the fact that Mr. Snape becomes my _coworker._" McGonagall looked somewhat disgusted.

"That must mean I'm either fired or I quit." Slughorn thought out loud, tapping his chin. "Potions was always what Mr. Snape excelled in."

"Coworker. Coworker!" McGonagall continued, blinking. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, is he biased against Gryffindor?"

Harry snorted. "He might as well start a cult against the House. A class doesn't go by that Snape doesn't take away at least fifty points for things like 'your potion ingredients are on the left side, not the right,' or 'your outer robes have a wrinkle on the shoulder. Five points from Gryffindor!'" Harry said the last bit in a mock imitation of Snape's nasally voice.

Dumbledore once again smiled. "I must have hired him for a reason, as ridiculous it may seem to you right now. I trust my future judgment."

"Yeah, well," Ron choked out, dropping some scathing hot tea in his lap. "Snape can bugger off. I don't want to have to deal with a little Snape! I mean, now we can pull pranks on him and get back at him for what he did to us, since he's a student, but golly, he's probably insane!"

"Reminding me," Dumbledore said, standing up and walking over to where the other professors were standing. "That we have not yet informed your father, Harry, or the others of this 'problem.' Shall we do it now?"

"Um…" Harry had noticed that Dumbledore was already standing, meaning that no matter what he said they were indeed going to do it now. "Sure, I guess."

"Great!" Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Horace, Minerva, round up the students we discussed and bring them to my office. Make sure they know this is serious and are on their best behavior, if you will. We wouldn't want something bad to happen."

McGonagall just rolled her eyes, walking out with Slughorn on her heels. The room became awkward.

Ten minutes later they heard a knock on the door.


End file.
